


Broomsticks and Rats

by mrsfizzle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Hermione Granger is a Good Friend, Hurt/Comfort, Mentor Fic, Time Turner (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:01:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24058657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsfizzle/pseuds/mrsfizzle
Summary: "She's cried a fair few times, yeh know. Goin' through a rough time at the moment . . . I gotta tell yeh, I thought you two'd value yer friend more'n broomsticks or rats." This is a missing scene from POA in which Hermione visits Hagrid a few days before Buckbeak's trial.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Rubeus Hagrid
Comments: 17
Kudos: 17





	Broomsticks and Rats

Hagrid was taking the last of the Bath buns out from the wood-burning oven when there was a knock on his door. Buckbeak looked up from his plate of dead ferrets, but quickly decided he wasn't interested, and settled back into Hagrid's quilt. Hagrid put down his oven mitt and went to open the door.

Hermione stood outside. She looked awful. Aside from shivering in the freezing cold, her eyes were red and swollen, and deep dark circles rimmed them from beneath. Her skin was pale, and she seemed even smaller to him than she usually did, like she hadn't been eating enough.

Despite all of this, she gave him a bright smile. "Hello, Hagrid! I brought you some new notes."

"Yeh're not suppos' to be alone ou'side the castle, yeh know."

"I know, but the teachers aren't really worried about _me_. They don't think of me as a trouble maker."

He frowned, stepping aside. "Come in, before yeh freeze."

She hurried inside and set her bag down on the table, rifling through and taking out a roll of parchment. "I wrote out a few more case studies on Hippogriffs, I think you'll find the third one to be especially helpful. I wish I could spend more time going over it with you, but I'm behind on homework for Transfiguration and studying for Arithmancy, I'm going to be up until at least midnight as it is—"

"Don' worry abou' it, Hermione. Yeh've done a lot fer us." Hagrid accepted the parchment with a smile.

Hermione had been like a ray of sunshine to him in the past few weeks. She'd made time for him during what must have been one of the most difficult times of her life, what with her friends refusing to speak to her.

"I wish I could do more," she said.

"Yeh've bitten off more'n you can chew a'ready." Hagrid was a little upset with McGonagall for having given that time turner to her. She was a mess, trying to keep up with all of her classes. He'd told her a couple of times that he wouldn't be offended if she dropped Care of Magical Creatures, but she wouldn't hear of it. "Yeh're the only one who's e'en tried ter help, yeh know."

"I'd get Harry and Ron to help, but they're still upset with me over th-the Firebolt, and Scabbers . . ." Her breath hitched.

Hagrid resisted the urge to groan with frustration and surprise that Harry and Ron had utterly abandoned their suffering friend over such trivial things. He knew they were teenaged boys, but he'd thought and spoken highly of them, and he'd been impressed by the strength of the friendship between the three students. Now he was left to wonder if he'd been wrong.

"I felt bad going to McGonagall about the Firebolt, but what if Sirius Black really did send it? And cursed it? It would be just the kind of thing to happen to Harry. Someone jinxed his broom in first year, and someone put a charm on that bludger in second year, and I just didn't want him to get hurt, but he was so upset with me."

"Yeh did th' right thing," Hagrid said softly.

"Oh, but he and Ron are already having such a tough time. Maybe I should have just gotten rid of Crookshanks. At least then Ron might forgive me for Scabbers, and then Harry might forgive me for the Firebolt. I mean, I love Crookshanks, he's been so comforting to me throughout all of this, but I don't know, Ron's seemed so hurt. Maybe . . ." Her eyes grew shiny.

"Don' you dare. Tha' cat's done nothin' wrong. On'y doin' what all cats do." With the number of times Ron had complained about Scabbers, Hagrid was astonished that Ron had held a grudge against Hermione for so long. "Yeh wan' me ter talk to 'em?"

"No, it's okay, Hagrid, you need to focus on Buckbeak right now. Besides, um, Ron's a bit shaken up right now. He was attacked last night. By Sirius Black!"

"Heard abou' that." There had been an emergency staff meeting to discuss Black's infiltration of the campus, as well as new security measures to protect students.

"And I've been so worried about him ever since then. Because I was thinking, what if he had died? The way we'd left things . . . those would be the last words we spoke to each other, and I'd have to live with that . . ."

Tears spilled from her eyes, and she buried her face in her hands. She collapsed into the chair at the table, and her shoulders shook with sobs.

Hagrid set down the parchment and sat down in the chair beside her. She'd cried the last couple of times she'd come down to the cabin, so Hagrid wasn't at a loss like he'd been the first time. He put an arm around her shoulders, careful not to place too much of his weight on her fragile frame.

He didn't try to speak to her while she was still sobbing, but when she turned to bury her tiny face in his shirt, wrapping her arms around as much as him as she could, he put his arms around her as well. He rested a hand on her head, stroking her hair as gently as he could.

"Boys yer age 're stupid," he told her gently. "They'll learn, give 'em time."

Hermione nodded and let go of him, pushing herself back from the table and picking up her bag. She sniffed and wiped at her tears, but they were immediately replaced by a fresh set.

He couldn't stand letting her go back to the castle still looking so upset. He'd brought her so much hope and kindness; it just wasn't fair. "Why don' yeh stay fer tea?"

"I can't." Her lower lip trembled. "I have so much homework."

"If 't helps, far 's I'm concerned, yeh've done more'n enough homework fer my class." He nodded his head toward Buckbeak.

She swallowed and smiled a little. "Thanks, Hagrid, but I'm more stressed about my other subjects. You almost never give us homework as it is."

That was true. He was new to teaching, which meant he was probably doing a lot of things wrong in class, including giving too little homework. At the same time, he was proud not to be adding any more to this poor girl's workload in the form of readings and essays. If he did set homework assignments, he'd be willing to excuse her from them, but she'd most likely do them anyway.

She needed her friends, now more than ever. He'd talk to them whether she wanted him to or not. It just wasn't right, the way they were treating her. Especially since she still obviously cared about them so much. Part of him wanted to knock some sense into the both of them, but it wasn't his way. It was hard enough for him to speak sharply to those boys—he'd come to see them as less like students and more like friends. But something had to be done. As their friend, he had to at least try to understand their side, and make a case for her like she was helping him make a case for Buckbeak.

In the meantime, he couldn't bring himself to send her back to her common room to surround herself with people who wouldn't be kind to her. Her eyes were still red, her skin still pale from the cold. He might not be able to substitute for friends her age, but he could provide her some company. She desperately needed that.

"Hey, why don' yeh do some work here? It's warm, 'n quiet. I've got lesson planning ter do. I'll make sure yeh get back ter the common room safe."

There was a brief spark of joy in her eyes, but her face fell immediately. "What if I'm caught out after curfew?"

"Good poin'." He made his voice sound mock-serious. "Hermione, as yer professor, I'm givin' yeh detention. Fer . . . fer bein' on yer own ou'side the castle. Ter be served righ' now. Yer gonna drink tea, 'n do yer homework in here, where it's warm, and I can keep an eye on yeh."

She giggled and rubbed her eyes.

"A'right?"

She nodded. "Alright."

She worked quietly at his kitchen table, and Hagrid poured her a steaming cup of tea, silently sitting across from her to drink his own in silence. When the cups were drained, he cleaned up after Buckbeak and washed the few dishes they had, and he looked over the parchment that Hermione had brought him to help with the case. He assembled his suit for the trial, and she looked up from her books for long enough to smile and nod her approval. Then, he settled down with some parchment of his own, drawing up plans for the next few days of classes.

There was nothing he could do to help her with her work—he'd been expelled while studying the same material she was struggling with now, and of course, even then he hadn't been taking nearly as many classes as she was. But her eyes didn't bear the same frantic stress they usually did these days; she seemed to almost be enjoying herself. Like she'd remembered that at one point, she'd been taking all of these classes out of a love of learning.

As the night bore on, and Hagrid's fire burned down, Hermione's eyelids drooped, and she slouched further over her books, until her nose was nearly touching the parchment, then she drifted off altogether, her cheek pressed between the pages of the book. He smiled to himself when he saw it. He knew her well enough to know she wasn't working on homework that was due tomorrow—whatever she'd been working on could wait.

"Hermione," he whispered, and she sat straight up. "Yeh need ter sleep. I'm takin' yeh back ter the castle."

"Okay." She stood up, eyes still at half mast, and shoved her books back into her bag. She started to sling it over her shoulder, but Hagrid lifted it away from her with two fingers, carrying it for her. "Thanks," she said.

It was long, cold walk back to the castle for one so exhausted as she was. The second time he saw her stumble, he shifted her bag to his wrist, and very slowly, so as not to startle her, he scooped her up into his arms. She didn't protest, merely tucked her arms into her chest and pressed her shivering face into his shirt. He held her a little tighter against his chest, careful not to hurt her with the pressure.

They passed McGonagall on the way in, standing guard. Hermione didn't even open her eyes. Hagrid glared, as if daring McGonagall to say anything, but she just smiled sadly and nodded, as if she understood completely.

He couldn't carry Hermione all the way into her dormitory—she'd have to walk when they reached the tower. He couldn't protect her from the coming week, from the fact that her school work likely wouldn't let up in the slightest, from the long nights and exhausting days. And he couldn't help her with the fact that Harry and Ron were being stupid, that broomsticks and rats had stolen the place in their hearts where their friend should be.

But he could give her a moment of peace, and warmth, and hope. God knew, she'd given the same to him.

_The End_


End file.
